


Rhythm of the Horse

by averts



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, depictions of animal injury, everyone is alright in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averts/pseuds/averts
Summary: Arthur and a then unnamed Huckleberry have a spill, and Charles helps them pick themselves up.





	Rhythm of the Horse

     Never a better companion to ride with had there ever been, Charles thought, at least not to his knowledge. Arthur was a quiet one to bring out of camp, unless he was riled up about something or another, and today he seemed as content to ride along in silence as ever. They were hunting smaller game than their last outing together, taking a buffalo and finding far too many others poached and left to rot away under the hot sun. How angry he'd been when they'd found the perpetrators, and how calm Arthur had been as they rode along, a paradigm switch in their usual personality counterbalances. And perhaps there had never been a better rider that he'd gone alongside, a true horseman among an age of spurs and shank bits. He'd seen Arthur and his beloved late mare fly over terrain that reduced lesser riders to a hobbling walk without missing a stride, and coax her where no horse without complete trust would dare venture. It seemed when he was in the saddle, those four feet were his own to take just about anywhere without fear or worry.

     "How're we lookin', Charles?" Came the quiet baritone from his right, patient and even unlike others he took hunting, too eager to get back to camp with a bounty to take the time to find one in the first place. He was seated lax on a new horse, still unnamed and relatively unbonded as Arthur was still working with teaching him to trust and listen.

     "Well. A big herd came through here," Charles hummed under his breath for a moment, looking off the side off of Taima. "Not long now."

     Arthur merely gave him a noncommittal noise, returning to looking around the scraggly hills of what they called the Heartlands. They rode bathed in a comfortable silence for a while longer, until suddenly the scene had burst into action, unexpected and startling even him. Arthur's walker stallion threw himself to his hind legs with a piercing squeal, striking at the air before wrenching himself to the side. Before he could properly process what was happening the horse gave a great heave, surging forward and leaving Arthur to grip on tight with both his thighs and handfuls of the stallion's mane until he got a hold on the reins once again.

     Taima spooked as well at the sudden bolting of another horse, pinning her ears back and hopping once or twice before giving a bellow as well. Then he saw it, a rattler poised to strike and only now beginning to shake its tail in warning. There was no time for that now, and with a loud shout he was off after his companion with a lasso in hand, Taima snorting beneath him as she worked to catch up with the bolting horse. Arthur held his seat strong as the horse galloped, eating up the ground in a panicked frenzy, his tail lashing from side to side and his gait becoming worrying over the rocky ground. There was no guidance from the rider on his back, only doing his best to rein in the horse, who refused to listen in his flight. His breath hitched as Charles saw what they were running up on, a wide ditch indented into the hill they were racing down, but he was too far to ready the rope to catch the horse. He heard Arthur curse as he finally resorted to yanking back on the bit, before hauling on just one side of the reins in an attempt to turn the horse away.

     But there was no response, and he watched in horror as the horse faltered, unable to choose to commit to a jump or stopping before it was too late. The stallion stumbled, before drawing his back legs far under his rear in an attempt to stop, tossing Arthur forward in the saddle before lurching upward again in a desperate effort to jump the ditch. The rider's head met the neck of his horse with a sickening thud, a foot leaving the stirrup as he was stopped from where he'd been falling forward against the horse while the other dug in hard to keep his own footing, the momentum too great to be able to catch himself effectively. They fell finally, the horse's feet slipping out from beneath him as he landed and flailed down the bank of the ditch, going hard on his knees with his nose tucked between them. Unseated, Arthur finally fell up over top of the horse's neck, arm outstretched and rolling after finally hitting the ground as well.

     "Christ..." Charles cursed as well, unable to look away at what was unfolding before him, reining Taima in to a trot before leading her down the embankment as he watched. " _Arthur_!?" He was answered by nothing but a groan from the other man, who lay a few feet away from the stallion, who had made no move yet to get up. Sliding off his own horse Charles hurried to him, heart hammering away in his throat as he checked the downed rider. A cut on his hairline bled profusely over his face, but cuts on the face always bled more, and he went on to look for anything more serious. None of Arthur's limbs lay at unnatural angles, he was breathing...he seemed fine. With a sigh of relief Charles leaned back on his heels and looked back to the horse, who had since rocked himself back up onto his feet, shaking off and snorting with effort. Sweat foamed against his shoulder and from under the thick saddle pad, but what worried him was the new, round wounds on his knees and a scrape across his soft nose. He was standing fine, and he could wait.

     "Arthur? Can you hear me?" His voice was gentle but firm, the tone that demanded to be answered but held a real concern for others. The other only stirred after a moment, trying to sit up before laying back down in the dirt with a gag. "Easy, Arthur." Charles said, a hand heavy on the other's shoulder and he reached to touch his forehead, frowning as his fingers came away red with blood from the cut on his scalp. Charles reached to tear away the plain white cloth he kept tied under one knee for support, pressing it firm over the gash and moving one of Arthur's hands to hold it there on his own.

     "'S horse alright?" He slurred, sitting up with help while Charles looked him over.

     "He seems fine. He got up on his own. Are _you_ okay?" As gently as he could he bent each of Arthur's wrists while keeping the bandage against his head, then his elbows and lifted each arm before being swatted away. Unphased he came close once again, looking close into blue-green eyes and seeing equal sized pupils. No concussion by some miracle, but Arthur was no doubt rattled from the fall.

     "I'm fine, Charles. God damn _snakes_ ," He rocked forwards and for a moment Charles thought he may just collapse back into the dirt. "Bo hated the ugly little things too."

     He knew Bo to be Boadicea, Arthur's last horse. A wonderful little andalusian mare that'd been just a bit too small for Arthur, but his raw skill in riding had never let that be a problem. She'd gone so hard when they fled Blackwater one of her cannon bones had broken, and it had sounded like a gunshot beside him as they rode. She'd shot ahead of them all with a squeal, unable to let up because of the pain just like what had happened today, and Charles remembered her falling just as vividly as the day it happened. "I cant blame her," Charles laughed, giving a whistle for his own horse after standing. "C'mon, big guy."

     Taima came closer from where she was grazing, regarding them all with a curiosity he didn't see in many other animals. She sniffed at Arthur before he was helped up, Charles slinging one of his arms over his shoulders and walking him to the horse, leaving him for just a moment to mount up on his own. He reached to help Arthur up onto the appaloosa as well, surprised when he didn't simply reach to hold onto the cantle of the saddle, but wrapped his arms strong around his waist. "See if he'll follow along, Arthur." He suggested, moving them to a walk with a simple click of his tongue, looking back to the stallion as his companion gave a whistle. The horse gave a sigh before stepping up over the bank along with them, walking without a limp but much slower than his usual plucky gait. "We'll go to the river to clean him off, and then back to camp. He'll be okay." He felt Arthur simply nod behind him, leaning heavy against his back and laying his chin onto his shoulder. Vaguely he hoped they didn't run into anyone, riding double and Arthur pressed against him in such a way. Not that they couldn't deal with a few idiots, but he simply didn't feel like it right now.

     "You scared me, sunshine." Charles admitted when the river was in view, leaning back onto him in turn. He felt Arthur huff a small laugh, patting his chest from where he was held on tight.

     "'M sorry, but I didn't exactly have a choice but to run off." He laughed as well, stopping Taima on the sandy bank near the water.

     "No, I guess you didn't." Surprisingly, Arthur slid down out of the saddle on his own, seeming to have perked up a bit. Charles hopped down after him, following along now as the other led his horse to water, feeling his legs as he drank sloppily from the river. How he handled the animal with such care after a fall like that, one that would have embarrassed or enraged lesser men, endeared him nearly to the point of heartache. The blonde cooed to his horse as he looked him over, pressing here and there before seeming satisfied his legs were fine. He'd gained some new scars, but otherwise, he'd be just fine with rest and some extra love. "You go sit down." Charles all but demanded once they were sure, nodding off to the trees near the bank that would provide cool shade.

     Arthur knew better than to argue when Charles told him to do something instead of asked, and he groaned loudly as he settled back into the grass, laid spread eagle on his back with a sigh. Charles set to work after he was sure he'd stay put, rooting around in both of their saddlebags for supplies. Sage, yarrow, and a mortar and pestle were gathered collectively, and laid out in the grass. All he was missing was bulrush, but it grew in bushels by the bank, and he picked what he needed and a little more to keep around for later. The herbs were ground into a thick paste, and after he was satisfied with the mixture he stood to approach the horses once again, patting the stallion's shoulder to let him know he was there. The thick ointment was liberally spread onto the wounds on his knees, and Charles hoped it wouldn't be brushed away before it could dry up.

     Getting the stallion to let him apply the same mix to the scrape on his nose was more difficult, the horse lipping at his hands in the assumption he was giving treats, before Charles gave in and appeased him with a handful of sweet grass. Quickly he smeared the ointment over his nose, laughing some as the horse bobbed his head before taking a few steps away to begin grazing. He turned to Arthur afterwards, smiling softly seeing the even rise and fall of his chest and knowing he was either asleep or close to it. Sitting beside him he saw he wasn't, and huffed a small laugh of amusement. "You still living there?" Charles asked, a hand absently brushing through the other's hair.

    "Eyup, I'm still here. Disappointed?" Arthur quipped back, both of them laughing for a moment before going quiet again, falling into a gentle intimacy.

     "No, not at all. I'm glad I can boss you around more." Charles stroked his hair while Arthur brushed a hand against the other's knee, patting him here and there as they sat and watched the clouds roll by.


End file.
